


All our yesterdays

by salytierra (octavaluna)



Series: El Ministerio del Tiempo + Hetalia [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: (you don't need to know anything about the tv show to read this), 5+1 Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Human & Country Names Used, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, MINISTRY OF TIME CROSSOVER, Marriage of Convenience, Not really an AU, Post-Divorce, Time Travel, illegal amounts of cuddling, ministry of time, travelling back in time to bang your ex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-16
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-08-31 07:23:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8569492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octavaluna/pseuds/salytierra
Summary: I wish that we could stay...Five times Spain had travelled back in time to see Austria and one time, he didn't have to.





	1. 1-

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!  
> Here I am again, writing about those two tragic nerds. 
> 
> This time it's a Ministry of Time crossover (because I needed one of those in my life). If you haven't heard of this show, [in this link you'll find a couple of lines of information.](http://salytierra.tumblr.com/post/153236926838/ministry-of-time-basics-mini-glossary-for-all) Or you can just soldier on. Just know that Spain has a secret Ministry that guards time/space-travelling doors and makes sure no idiot changes history and fucks up something that shouldn't be fucked up. 
> 
> It's also a 5+1 story that I was gonna publish as a simple one-shot, however, since I need to add some historical notes to each part, I'm opting for uploading them as individual chapters. (First one's the shortest xD)
> 
> Huge thanks to Kate, who endured my sporadic ramblings and even helped me to pick up a title for this story. 
> 
> (which is a Blackmore's Night song title, btw. Fucking perfect for this fic too, 100% fitting, man.)

# 1-

It happened for the first time two years after the war ended and the Bourbons had won the throne. Finally able to stand on his own two feet, without feeling like his body was screaming from pain, Spain had never felt so alone. Everything changed so much, everything was a bloodied, broken mess. He couldn’t bear the sight of his own house, walking the empty corridors that echoed with the voices of phantoms, of people and feelings that weren't there anymore. 

A King loyal to his worst enemy, a land scarred by war. So much taken from him and so many lost.

The Habsburg gold no longer adorned his finger, and his hand felt ten times heavier because of that. Somehow, he should have seen it coming, somehow he should have imagined from the very beginning that nothing lasted forever and that getting attached, falling so deeply and honestly, would be a terrible idea.

Austria was gone. The man Antonio had called home for two centuries, the one he’d came back to from his journeys time and time again, the one he worshipped and loved and fought side-by-side with, was now practically an enemy. Yet, all Spain wanted was to see him again. Just to see him, to hear his voice and the beautiful sounds those elegant fingers could play.

It started out as a longing. An idea nestled in his head, accompanied by a melancholic note from his heart, still numb after having been broken into a thousand pieces. But as the days, weeks, passed he couldn’t shrug the need off. It consumed his every breathing moment, blinding him in the middle of the day.

Portugal had a word for it, _saudade_. “The love that remains after someone or something is gone.”

Funny though, how all Antonio could feel was homesick in his own bed and thrown out of his axis in the very heart of his land. He needed to leave those cold sheets… he needed to go… somewhere.

_Somewhen._

It was almost too easy, too obvious. A taboo however, something he vowed to never do. But heck, it’s not like he was trying to change the future or the past, he just wanted one glance from afar, that couldn’t hurt, could it?

 

Infiltrating the ministry, stealing the book of doors and finding the right one resulted way easier than he expected. He made a mental note to remedy that once he got back. The most important secret of the Empire couldn’t remain in the hands of an Undersecretary so incompetent he didn’t notice the Empire itself sauntering through the corridors like it was his own cellar.

He inspired deeply, stepping over the threshold as time and space wrapped themselves around him, swallowing him whole and spitting him out on the other side of his disgrace, in a time when he didn’t know pain yet.

It was night and the whole castle was asleep. A letter rested on the desk table announcing the return of an expedition from the New World in the next few days, and the lone figure in the bed representing the welcome committee that arrived too early, impatient to greet them. A blessed moment in the peak of their union, before it had began to rot from the inside. When the anticipation could yet set every nerve aflame.  

The full moon filtering through the open window cast its bluish light, melting into the yellow glow of the almost extinguished candle on the nightstand. Both giving Roderich’s features an ethereal look, making his eyelashes seem longer and his lips softer. He was asleep, breathing deeply with a hand under the pillow.

Antonio didn’t know for how how long he stood there, just drinking in the sight, until his feet moved by themselves, slowly bringing him close enough to run a trembling finger across his husband’s cheek bone.

Violet eyes fluttered open and he held his breath, conscious that he'd fucked up but unable to move.

“You’re back.” Austria mumbled, half asleep still. He looked tired, and so Spain sat on the edge of the bed, bending down to kiss him lightly on the lips. Which might have been either the most necessary or the most soul crushing thing he’s ever done. Roderich hummed happily into the kiss, lips stretching into a lazy smile. “Come here” he mumbled. And so Antonio shed his overcoat and wool pants to climb under the covers, almost unable to believe himself as he wound his arms around that warm body and tangled their legs together. A strong grip in his hair made him discard completely any notion of who he was and what was he supposed, or _not supposed_ , to be doing there.

They touched and kissed until the rest of the world faded away, and then till Roderich’s breathing evened out. He must have been exhausted after his journey.

With one last peck to his naked shoulder, Spain extricated himself from their tangle, even as his heart screamed at him to stay one more minute. Austria just mumbled something in his sleep but didn’t wake up.

Before slipping out the door though, Antonio cast one last glance at his beloved, noticing the discarded shirt half poking from under the covers. He picked it up, burying his face in the fabric and inhaling that infatuating smell that he’d missed so much. Figuring Roderich wouldn't miss it, he slipped back into his time with the garment hidden safely under his own cloak.

Shortly after returning to his own, empty house, he embarked in the next convoy sailing for the Americas and didn’t return for years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Usually the time notes will be at the beginning of the chapters, but just for this once they are at the end:
> 
> Spain's Time: 1716. Shortly after the end of the Spanish Succession war (aka: the divorce).  
> Austria's Time: sometime at the beginning of the XVIIth century.


	2. 2-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spain's time:** The Austrian Succession War of 1740–1748, where they were on opposite sides. You may remember that one because it was in the anime.
> 
> **Past time:** 1520\. The scene referenced in the wardrobe part is from Kate_Marley's [Prelude in A Minor](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7426780). (Thanks for letting me borrow it, sis!)  
>  You kinda need to have read it unless you want to miss some specific bits :'D 

# 2-

  

The second time he fell into his own trap was just after their clash in the middle of the battlefield. He didn’t know how the hell had France managed to manipulate him into joining that war, probably by not letting him any way out. But there he was; covered in sweat, dirt and blood, breathing heavily as he realised too late whose sword was blocking his halberd.

Of course that had been inevitable. They were on the opposite sides of that war, he’d known that from the very beginning. Because France and Austria were still enemies, and Roderich was siding with England. It felt like some sort of bad joke from the universe, but nobody said reality had a good sense of humour either.

Their eyes met for the first time in years and time stopped, just for a second.

Just for a second he forgot where they were, suddenly face to face again with the man that he still dreamt about in the coldest nights. They held each other’s gaze and just for that tiny second Spain could have sworn on his mother’s grave that he’d seen a spark of vulnerability in Austria’s eyes. Of longing and love and regret. But no more than for a single second, as a porcelain mask slid on his face, extinguishing that shine and covering with a numb veil of apathy Roderich’s features.

Antonio hadn’t realised that he’d stopped putting any strength behind his weapon until it was yanked from his hands and he fell on his ass into the mud, looking up at the man holding a sword over him.

He wouldn’t be able to… would he? _They’d loved each other._

Luckily he never had to find out. Some over enthusiastic soldier jumped between them, meeting Austria’s sword with his own. The poor kid didn’t stand a chance, but Antonio couldn’t stay to watch it. He fled like a coward, like a vulgar deserter, consequences be damned. He just found a horse, probably belonging to someone who wouldn’t need it anymore, and rode it on gallop back through the burning hills and forest paths, changing it for another when it was too tired, and continuing his frantic journey.

He felt as if something had lost its balance, as if the structure of his very persona had been threatened. His identity - affronted.

He needed… his head was a buzzing mess and his heart a pile or inert flesh. He rode all the way back to Madrid and straight to the Ministry, not even bothering with discretion this time. Of course that meant having to knock several people out of the way to get  to the book and then to the door that he needed. To hell with it, he’ll ask for forgiveness later.

 

Spain just felt like- like that encounter was turning him inside out. He needed to purge it, that memory. He had to get rid of that feeling. He needed to revive something better, something more meaningful and lasting between them.

The long ride he had to face again helped a bit, purely by exhausting him, so when he arrived into Brussels he was almost calm. Striding through the palace without anybody paying him any mind. His past self was a welcome guest and it’s not like any of the servants knew him well enough to notice the little age difference. He found the right room just in time.

 

The stale air greeted him as the memories he was about to witness in third person unveiled like a fan in front of his eyes. Picking an empty wardrobe to hide in, he sat down comfortably, leaving a thin crack open to peer outside. He was well aware of how ridiculous he was being, and holy shit, _he actually left the battlefield and broke one of his oldest laws again_ , but-

He just didn’t want to think about any of that when he heard the door open. Antonio smiled tenderly, watching through the crack a painfully young Austria tiptoe inside and hide behind a curtain. Yeah, he could relate to the feeling.

His own past self joined not long after and Antonio leaned his head against the wardrobe’s wood, closing his eyes and listening to their startled greetings and then their first “real” interaction ever. God, they were such babies! Just a couple of awkward teenagers united by politics, trying to find some sort of common ground in a mutual dislike of their leader and their love for music.

How long has it been since Antonio actually sat down and played something for himself? Too long. At some point music became so tightly associated to Austria that after their separation- He made a mental note to pick up his guitar again once he got back. He loved to play, loved to dance and sing. Marriage has already been ruined for him forever, no need to push art out of his life too.

He remained there for a long time. Listening to himself recite the poem of Mio Cid to the tune of the vihuela and their quiet conversation afterwards. At some point he started dwelling into his own soul, looking for that fragment of reality that had fallen out of place. It looked better now, and he felt more righteous. Whatever might be happening in his time, their past is only theirs. Everything they’d lived together, from their first meeting to their last kiss, actually happened. Nothing would be able to erase that.

No war, no weapon would ever weigh more than the memory of the love they shared.

 

And just like his own past self just did, he whispered under his breath “Who knows what the future will hold.” Convinced that there was no way that, in the thousands of years to come, they wouldn’t cross paths again at least one more time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read this I'd love it if you let me know. So I don't feel like yelling into the void till exhaustion :'D  
> [You can also find me on tumblr](http://salytierra.tumblr.com) ♥


	3. 3-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Spain's time:** 1806-1807. After the defeat of the Hispano-French alliance at Trafalgar and before the French occupation of Spain.   
> **Past time:** ~3.000 b.c. Somewhere around the central part of the peninsula. Near Soria. Lusitania would be either the kid version or the predecessor of Portugal. With "mother" he refers to Iberia.   
> **Austria's time:** Somewhere near 1550. After Mühlberg.

#  3-

The third time he didn’t even intend to do it. It was the eye of the storm in the middle of the rage of the Napoleonic wars and there wasn’t even an actual boss to ask for permission or have to answer to later. Not with the royal family on exile. 

The tension was doing a number on Antonio’s shoulders. He needed at least a couple of hours of rest, so he thought about where he could get them without anybody running in at all times to ask for his advice, only to proceed to do the opposite.  

There were people coming and going into the ministry at all times, (too sensible of a period apparently it was, too many assholes trying to change something for better or worse). So the undersecretary just waved him off when he asked for a certain door,  _ yeah, it’s okay, as long as you are careful.  _

 

So there he went, to a time long, long ago. When his cities didn’t even exist yet, when the meadows were covered in tall grass and his mother’s heartbeat could be heard in every creature, every drop of water and every sunrise. Near a celtiberian village, the morning of the harvest fest. He sat under a tree, closing his eyes and listening to the laughs of the people that would generations later become  _ him _ . Before Cartage, before Rome.

Somewhere, maybe somewhere among those heels he was already toddling along the streams with Lusitania’s hand in his, or maybe he didn’t even exist yet. Antonio didn’t care. It was a good time to rest, to let the  _ detachment _ that that time brought soak into his tired bones and let himself relax under the tune of the music and songs in a language he barely recognized. 

At some point, he fell asleep. Dreaming of a world where he didn’t have to bow his head, to fight or to be humiliated. He dreamt of having a family again and of falling in love. 

 

Something woke him up. A feeling. That shift, under the core of his being, from when he travelled in time, and that got tighter the closer he was to his own period. That same feeling that he was trying to escape, but more subdued, and it wasn’t coming from around him, it was focused. 

He opened his eyes, looking in the direction where it came from and did a double take.  _ Shit!  _ Well now he knew why did he associate precisely _ that time _ with happiness and tranquillity. He’d completely forgotten that this was where he brought Roderich when he told him about the Ministry. 

He had been in the process of falling stupidly in love and eager to share his secrets with the object of his affections. So he did the stupidest thing ever and revealed his better guarded secret. Of course Austria hadn’t believed him, rolling his eyes at what he thought was a bad  joke. So Antonio sneaked them into the ministry and through the first available door, determined to prove his point. 

Thinking about it now, it’s possible that he always had a little bit of a problem sticking to his own rules about the misuse of time travel. 

Austria had been confused and angry at first but came around rather quickly. They decided to stay for a couple of days, take some time for themselves and have fun, away from responsibilities. A couple of wonderful days of making out, laughing, dancing to the music coming from the settlement, hunting and swimming in the river. The only downside happened when they had to run away from a pair of wild boars and got separated for a couple of hours. When they were finally reunited, Austria seemed different, somehow agitated and unusually clingy. Not that Antonio complained much about that last part, and he’d attributed it mostly to their little hunting accident. 

Now he was staring face-to-face at his former spouse, who seemed pretty much in shock. 

After the initial shock wore out, Antonio smiled, tilting his head. “Hello, beloved.” 

“You are from another time.” Austria announced rather than asked, drawing closer. He sat in front of Antonio, extending his hand hesitantly. 

Spain chuckled, taking the offered hand and fitting it along his own cheek, turning his face to kiss the inside of it. He glanced up at Roderich, greedily burning his features into his mind again, amazed at the fact that apparently his memory did not exaggerate the other’s refined beauty one bit. His former husband never had a very high opinion on his looks, but Antonio always caught himself holding his breath when he observed him for too long.

Austria’s eyes shifted between their hands and Antonio’s face a couple of times, before leaning in to kiss his forehead. “What happened to you?” He asked softly and Spain’s smile faltered. 

“Life.” He said simply. “It’s been a bit rough lately. Why? Do I look that bad?” 

“You look exhausted.” Austria answered, not biting into the teasing tone. “What time are you from? Why are you here?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that.” Antonio chuckled “But I guess I just wanted to rest.” 

Roderich sighed, looking at him with sadness and so much love that Antonio’s vision veiled over with tears. 

“Come here.” Austria whispered, resting his back against the tree and patting his lap. Spain laid his head on it, humming in satisfaction when he felt those deceivingly delicate looking fingers carding through his hair. The caresses and the smell of his skin making Antonio’s head spin.  

“I love you.” He said, barely audible to his own ears. Hungover on love and need. 

“I love you too.” Roderich answered, with honesty and a melancholic note in his voice. “I love you so much I can’t imagine ever stopping loving you.”

Antonio snorted, weak but still self-deprecating enough.

“I’m serious.” Austria reprimanded him, tugging on a strand of his hair. “And I want you to remember it. If you ever need someone, if you ever feel alone, remember that your are loved by at least one person in your life. Please.” 

_ Except that you are not in my life anymore _ . Spain thought bitterly. But he didn’t voice it. Opting to grab Austria’s hand instead and kiss his palm again. “Okay.” He conceded, allowing himself to be held and touched for a while, until they both heard a well-known voice in the distance, calling Roderich’s name. 

“Go.” Antonio said, sitting up. Austria looked dubious. 

“He’s looking for you.”

That seemed to do it. With one last kiss, light like a butterfly’s wingbeat, he was gone, and Antonio finally could rest his head against the bark of the tree and cry. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blah blah blah my tumblr is salytierra, please leave stuff etc, useless end comments etc, etc, etc.   
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	4. 4-

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you thought the last three chapters were heartbreaking, wait to read this one :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Spain's time: 1867.**
> 
> -That Year the Austro-Hungarian empire was established. It would last till November of 1918. 
> 
> -Meanwhile Spain was going through one of the worst periods in its history. The loss of the American colonies; a huge recession; a severe drought that brought famine, and the disassociation of the retrograde elite from the population, that fuelled revolts through the whole country supported by the bourgeoisie .  
> The next year, 1868, would see the "glorious revolution" in which queen Isabella II was deposed and sent into exile. Amedeus of Savoy was randomly crowned king but abdicated two years later, declaring Spain "ungovernable" and giving way to the First Republic, which lasted another two years and despite the best efforts turned into a massive mess... the 19th century sucked for this country, kids. 
> 
> **Austria's time: 1698.**  
>  Two years before the death of the Bewitched King Charles II that fuelled the Spanish War of Succession referenced in the first chapter. Everybody knew the king would die soon without a successor and nobody knew what to do about that. Cue in - a lot of stress.

# 4-

1867 and Austria was marrying Hungary.

Antonio tore the report to threads, banging on the table with both fists and then just swiping everything off it. He kicked the nearest chair out of the way, then picked it up and smashed it against the floor. He could faintly hear in the distance a dull roar, like a hurt beast locked in a trap, he was even aware that it was coming from him, but he couldn’t care less. In front of his Queen, the ministers and generals, he just lost his composure. Not even the famine and the public revolts that maimed his health prevented him from literally flipping the heavy oak table and punching the first guard that dared to come near him straight in the mouth.

At the end, he had been left alone to trash everything around him, until his knees gave up and he collapsed on the floor.

“I take it you are not in the mood to attend.” Isabella said, walking towards him. Antonio glanced up at her with derision. That woman irked on his nerves like no ruler he’s ever had before.

“Not feeling very festive.” He spat back. Picking himself up, he offered her a disheartened bow, walking out of the hall and completely ignoring the voices calling his name.

 

He couldn’t even pinpoint why he was so affected. It’s been so long, he should be over it. Like Austria apparently was, as evidenced by his clear intention to flip the page completely.

No, he had to calm down. He had no right to be angry with Roderich. He didn’t even know if his former spouse actually felt anything for Hungary or it was just a political union. (Then again, theirs was supposed to be one of those too). And if they were in love so what? There was no shame in “losing” to Elisa. It’s been awhile since Spain last saw her but he remembered her feisty and opinionated, beautiful and strong. Whatever the reason behind their marriage, Austria didn’t settle for less.

Besides, whether Roderich, by some miracle, still felt something for his last husband or not, had nothing to do with him feeling the same for someone else. Antonio had never been jealous or possessive, but right then he could practically feel those dark feelings blinding his reason.

Shit… it was all… such a mess!

He really didn’t need all this during such a complicated moment in his life. The memory of that evening in the meadows of Celtiberia flashed through his mind. Roderich’s tender words and promises of eternal love. _Yeah. As if!_

 

He threw himself on his bed, finally realising how exhausted he was. A thought fluttered through his head. Maybe… just one more time. Go to see him, sometime when he could hold him, kiss him and listen to his voice whispering- No. Roderich had moved forward, it was time for Antonio to do the same. What was the point anyway? Five minutes of false heaven? Cross miles of time and space only to be fed more lies and false promises?

Maybe that’s why he was still so hung up on his failed marriage. Ever through the worst times of his life he mentally re-visited the happiest ones to feel better. It just happened, that those times usually went hand in hand with feeling in love and being in a relationship with Austria. But it hadn’t been all honesty, comfort, love making, rainbows and sunshine. They had their downfalls too, fought horribly, lied to each other and their disagreements, in more than one occasion, got to the physical level, and not the fun kind.

Groaning as he crawled out the bed, feeling dizzy all of a sudden, Antonio breathed in deeply. Just for this time, just for once, maybe he should give into his anger and disappointment. Screw Austria and screw that clingy, corrosive love. What he really needed was to stop looking at his past through rose-colored lenses. Revive one of the worst moments of their union, near the very end. Remember why exactly had they broken up.

 

***

 

The screaming match shaking the Escorial gardens told him he couldn’t have picked a better door for his purposes than the one leading to the early summer of 1698. Under the disguise of a knocked-down servant and hiding his face behind a scarf he approached the scene, keeping himself invisible under the shadow of the trees.

And yet a flying teacup almost hit him in the forehead. Managing to elude it, he ducked behind an oak in time to see his past self kicking the ground and making a shower of dirt fall over the picnic blanket, landing on the upturned pastries.

“I’m done-!!” The other spain was shouting “I swear to everything you hold dear it’s impossible to reason with you!”

“Well maybe that’s because you are the one being unreasonable!” Austria hissed back, shaking his finger accusingly.

“I don’t need this! For once that we can get some time for ourselves and you have to run your mouth!”

“Well excuse me if I admit that we need to talk rather than sit around and do nothing while-”

“We have every other day to to that! That’s all we ever do anymore! I only asked you of one damn day without-!”

“No! I talk and you ignore it and do nothing! You can’t just pretend that-”

“Can you just-...? Aaarg! I’m sick of this! I’m out, have a nice day all by yourself, _dear_.” The last part was spat out sarcastically, as the other Spain stormed out, muttering profanities under his breath.

 

Antonio chuckled, leaning on the tree’s side. Yeah, that’s it. That had been their dynamics for a good while before the divorce. Is that what he’s been so hung up on through the decades? Really? He should have come here sooner.

Then something interrupted his cynical train of thought: hiccups. Austria was crying. Oh shit that was not… he wasn’t supposed to hear that.

_God but he sounds so broken-_

Rapidly deflating, Antonio couldn’t resist peeking from behind his hiding spot. Roderich was still sitting on the ground, the remains of an unfinished date scattered around him, shoulders shaking violently as he cried into his hands.

Spain remained rooted to the spot. He remembered that fight now. Remembered feeling furious and resentful without even knowing what had started the discussion in the first place. They were under too much stress, taking it on each other more often than not. He remembered being angry that day. What he didn’t remember was worrying or feeling guilty about hurting his husband.

“You can come out now.”

Austria hadn’t stopped crying, but he was looking straight at Antonio now, rubbing furiously at his eyes.

Seeing no possible way out out it, Spain approached him carefully, lowering himself on the torn blanket and reaching out with his arms, enveloping the other man in a tender embrace.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, kissing the top of his head.

“For this and how many other times?” Roderich muttered, but there was no reproach in his voice. He raised his head, looking at his beloved with red-rimmed eyes. “This is it, isn’t it? The beginning of the end.”

“What makes you think so?” Antonio tried to protest, but Roderich chuckled humorlessly, lowering his head on his shoulder again.

“I always knew that we were doomed.” He confessed. “Firstly, I just couldn’t believe a political union could last long, then there was a short period when, the young, naive and enamored me actually got to believe that this was our forever but…” He sighed, cuddling closer as Antonio tightened his arms around him. “But then I found you in that pre-roman time and you reminded me that reality is not made of honey.”

Antonio frowned. “I don’t remember mentioning anything specific about our future.”

Austria got a hold of his hand, bringing it to his lips. “You weren’t wearing your ring back then either, dummy.” _Oh, right._ “Or that time when you slipped in at night to make love to me and stole my shirt afterwards.”

“You knew…?” That was gonna happen eighteen years from now in this timeline. Austria nodded.

“At first I thought it had been a dream, but when I couldn’t find it and saw the marks on my neck I put two and two together. You-” He bit at his lip but then soldiered on “you looked almost identical then to how you look now in my time.”

“Yeah, it was not long after... I just needed to see you, I guess.”

“So we don’t have much left, huh? This is definitively it.”

Antonio sighed. He wasn’t sure what kind of effect his visits were having on the past, or if they were a part of it at all. “Not immediately but almost, yeah. I can’t tell you the exact dates though.”

“I don’t care.” Austria looked up at him again, determined despite the fact that he still had tears in his eyes “I don’t care. I will fight till the last second, even if we only have one more day left I will fight for that day.”

“Why?” Spain was in shock. If he knew, if he’d always known that they union was deemed to fail…

“Because I meant the vows I spoke to you on our wedding. And I will always love you, no matter what. You are a part of me and so is this feeling. So I will fight this lost battle. And once I lose I will wait. Centuries, a millennia if it’s necessary. Just promise me one thing.”

“Anything.” Antonio breathed through the knot in his throat.

“You come to me when you need me. I’m sure that in the future there will be a time when I will really, really need you. Please, be there for me when that happens. That’s all I can ask of you.”

What else could Spain do but nod and lean in to seal that promise with a kiss?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Huge thanks to the people that left me a comment on this piece. Making a writer happy is ridiculously easy. It's knowing that there are people of there that enjoy our work what keeps us going ♥
> 
> I'm actually excited to upload the fifth chapter. Meanwhile, I hope you liked this one :D


	5. 5-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not sure how much I should reveal in the beginning notes if I don't want to spoil anything. I'm just gonna try and stick just to the basics. 
> 
> **MINISTRY (and other stuff) REFERENCES**  
>  \- The "incident" referenced when Antonio talks with Salvador is taken from the S02E13 of Ministry of Time. Basically, one of the characters caught the Spanish Influenza in 1918 and they brought it back with them. 
> 
> \- Lola Mendieta: a "villain" in the series. Ex-ministry stellar agent that turned on the run and also performs art and valuable object thieving through history. She knows a lot of extra-official doors and stuff. 
> 
> \- Velázquez: Yes, the painter. He works for the ministry in his free time. [The rest of the ministry refs are in the small post I prepared for that at the beginning of the story. ](http://salytierra.tumblr.com/post/153236926838/ministry-of-time-basics-mini-glossary-for-all)
> 
> \- [Costa Brava](http://www.costabrava-villas.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/05/cala-costa-brava.jpg)  
>   
>   
>  **HISTORICAL REFERENCES**  
>  \- **The Spanish Influenza:** The pandemic killed from 50 to 100 million people worldwide and the first _registered_ case was in Kansas. The American soldiers brought it to Europe, where it killed between 6 and 10 million people between 1917 and 1920. (It's hard to tell sometimes who died because of war injuries, the influenza or both). The central powers were the most affected and it was one of the causes that tilted the balance of the WWI.  
>  However, the governments censored the information, trying not to depress more the population of a continent that was being devastated by the war. Neutral Spain was the only country that rang the alarm bells and spread the news. Which is why it's called to this day "the Spanish Influenza" despite not being Spanish in origin, and it wasn't even one of the most affected countries. 
> 
> \- **The Treaty of Saint-Germain-en-Laye:** Signed on 10 September 1919 between the winners of WWI and Austria. You can find the info in Wikipedia, but basically, the Austro-HUngarian empire was dismembered and the small fraction of Austria that was left was forbidden to be annexed to Germany, despite the fact that a lot of experts doubted its ability to sustain itself. Not to mention the economic sanctions.

  
  


# 5-

“Here’s the deal-” Salvador Martí was saying, looking slightly unsettled. Antonio thought it was funny, really. This period’s Undersecretary was a man with a good head on his shoulders, but even _he_ always got nervous when he had to talk to the representation of Spain itself. “After what happened the last time we had a mission in 1918 our best agents… well, people are a little bit hesitant to go anywhere near that year again.”

“You mean that time when you almost caused a repeat of the worst medical catastrophe since the black plague?” Antonio raised an eyebrow, but his mouth quirked up in a repressed smile.

“In my defense, I would have never allowed that.” Salvador sighed, fumbling uncomfortably in his chair. “But yes.” He pushed a folder towards Antonio. “It’s not a complicated mission, but it’s still in december of 1919. The virus wasn’t completely eradicated by then yet and-”

“You want me to go instead?” Antonio interrupted him. “It’s a simple art theft, Salvador.”

“A theft that should have never happened and that carries the stamp of Lola’s methods all over it. Besides, it’s the theft of Velázquez's Meninas. He’s hysterical. We had to forcibly lock him in a room when he found out you’d be coming into the Ministry.”

“Thanks.” Spain answered drily. But he meant it. The last thing he needed now was to have a sobbing genius hanging from his sleeve all day.

“You will have help from that period’s ministry guards, everything is ready. Please?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll take care of this, alright.” He was gonna do it anyway, he had been prepared for that since he received the call from the Ministry in the morning.

 

***

 

The mission itself went smoothly. No matter how good of a thief you are and how well you study the complicated network of tunnels under Madrid, you just can’t be better at it than the guy that has been there for the construction and fall of every centimeter of them. Besides, the thieves were following the instructions left by Lola Mendieta, but they weren’t her.

In less than a day’s work, the painting was where it should have always been and Antonio was free to walk calmly through the streets of 1919, feeling a little bit uncomfortable. And not only because he left 2016 in June and now was December. He buried his nose deeper in his scarf, feeling in his bones the distant echoes of 300.000 people dying from a disease that would forever, unfairly, carry his name. Because he was the only country that didn’t censor its existence, that raised the alarms and probably saved thousands more just by doing that.

He spotted an empty bench overlooking a small square and sat down, watching the pigeons fly by. Less than ten minutes later he felt someone lean on the backrest by his side. He didn’t turn, but smiled as a very, very familiar voice asked the expected question.

“Am I an agent of the Ministry now?”

“Only for this once.” He answered calmly. One of the pigeons started chasing another, cooing loudly.

“It’s good to know that this damn influenza isn’t going to kill me. What time are you from?”

“You know I can’t tell. But we’ve been through worse. And others are having it way harder right now, you know?”

“Their own fault, for starting that stupid war.”

Antonio chuckled drily. Shaking his head at the sheer amount of irony.

“O-oh. I don’t like how that sounded. A storm is yet to come, isn’t it?”

“Just focus on getting past it.” Antonio advised. He stood up, smiling at the puffy hat of his past self, who remained unturned. “Merry Christmas. Say hi to Porty from me.”

“Thanks. I will, once we are drunk out of our asses. And you too!”

“It’s only June.” He called back, a little bit wishfully, while walking away. That conversation was the whole reason he’d agreed to this mission. As short and meaningless as it had been, he had known for almost a century that it was bound to happen. It took him awhile, but he finally learned to respect the rules of the Ministry and time travel. Never change an event, no matter how insignificant, unless your change of that event is part of the timeline.

Better get to the time door as quick as possible though, and jump back into his own period. An entire week on the beach sounded like a nice idea. Probably somewhere along Costa Brava; less full of annoying tourists and a paradisiacal beauty of nature. Or he could also go bother his brother for a while.

 

Daydreaming of warm sand and girls in bikini was how he rounded the last corner, walking faster down the street, when he almost ran over an elderly woman selling handmade scarves and hats next to her stand.

“I’m so sorry!” He apologised, fawning over her. “Are you alright?”

“Oh young man, I’m fine. These old bones can handle worse.” She smiled back at him, turning her face around to cough feebly. Antonio tried not to convey the way his hands twitched. He really hoped it wasn’t the influenza. Looking away from her, his eyes fell on her stand and the rows of lovingly-crafted wool.

And then his heart missed a beat.

Carefully, he let go of her arms, taking a step forward to reach for a scarf. It was a simple one, dark blue with two white doves embroidered on the ends. It was pretty but not particularly eye-catching. Except because he’s seen it before. At least a dozen times over the years, before and after EU or UN meetings, that same scarf, never left in the checkroom with the coats but always lovingly folded on its owner’s lap or around his shoulders. He remembered seeing it and thinking about how old that thing must be, even if it was treated with so much care, it definitively had seen better times.

Well, he had it now in his hands. New and pristine, but unmistakingly that same scarf. Swallowing with a considerable effort he finally came back to himself enough to notice the old woman tugging at his sleeve, looking hopeful.

“Do you like it son? It’s one of my best, very warm.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it is.” He whispered, despite the lump in his throat. His own words from barely minutes ago running through his head _“others have it way harder.”_ and probably few had it harder than… He closed his eyes, inspiring deeply. A promise that he hadn’t bothered to remember in over a century suddenly coming back in full force.

“How much?” He asked the granny, already giving her way more than what she was asking for, and walking away without waiting for the return. Thanks god the Ministry thought ahead in case their agents needed currency. He hid the carefully folded scarf under his coat.

Apparently, the beach vacation was gonna have to wait. Antonio thought while typing Salvador a message to warn him that he was gonna be staying for a couple of days in this period.

He _had_ to adhere to the whims of his timeline. So next mission? - Find a way to get to Vienna in a pre-commercial aviation, pre-high-speed trains, and post-Great War Europe.

 

Luckily, his experience and resources were miles ahead of that of an ordinary person, and with a little bit of help from the Ministry’s people (once he managed to convince them that he _was_ fulfilling a fixed action.) he found himself standing before a particular door in Vienna, suddenly nervous as hell. But if anything, the miserable state of the city only made him more determined. He knocked a couple of times and waited long enough to do it again, and then again, until he heard tired footsteps on the other side of the door.

“You are from another time.” Was the first thing that Austria said with a raspy voice, after a few seconds of shocked surprise. He looked like death warmed over. His hair was a mess and had lost all its shine, his skin looked so pale it was almost gray, colorless lips and sunken, red-rimmed eyes behind cracked glasses.

Antonio had to close his eyes for a moment, inspiring deeply. His heart was fluttering painfully in his chest, aching with the newfound need to reach out, to make it better, somehow, anyhow.

“How do you always know?” He asked instead, managing a weak smile.

Roderich looked away, down at his feet. “I’m sorry you… you have to go.” But he must have sounded unsure even to his own ears, because he didn’t oppose much when Antonio reached out to hold open the door that he was trying to close. Or maybe he just didn’t have the strength to push back.

A cough attack suddenly shook his frame and he almost doubled over, heaving afterwards. Antonio rushed to support him, noticing how weak and bony he was, barely holding up. Deciding that to hell with it, and despite the half-hearted protests, he reached behind Roderich’s knees, picking him up in a princess carry and stepping inside the house, closing the door with a kick of his foot.

He walked into the living room, depositing his charge gently on the couch and leaving him for only a couple minutes, returning with a glass of water and a blanket.

“You look like you kissed the sun.” Roderich mumbled, after taking a few sips. Antonio hummed, covering him up to the ears with the blanket. “None of us looks like that now, not even you could, despide your neutrality and improved economy. So many people are dying... But you are glowing. You are strong and your skin feels soft. That’s how I know.”

“Thanks, I exfoliate.” Antonio answered drily, even though he knew Austria wouldn’t get the joke. “You shouldn’t be by yourself right now.” He said with a frown, sitting on the corner of the couch and taking off his glasses, gently, despite the slight reproach in his voice.

“And whom shall I call?” Roderich asked, with a sardonic grimace. “Everyone is gone. Everyone whom I had taken under my wing fled away, even Hungary. I’ve lost my family, I lost my friends, even myself. And I keep losing myself. I knew that something wasn’t right, that more people were getting ill and dying at home than on the battlefield. Even before your press spread the word about the epidemic. I feel so sick… I just- I want all of this to be over. They won’t even allow me that, you know?”

“You are not going to die. Not because of the Influenza, or the treaty of Saint-Germain, or anything else to come.” Antonio said firmly. “You are the strongest person I know. You are going to overcome all of this shit and have a life that you like and enjoy.” He shouldn’t be giving hints about the future, but there was no way in hell he could just sit there and watch the man that he’d loved give up on himself. “I come from a whole century from now and I saw you merely two days ago. Regal and sharp, shining like a star, so beautiful-” He shut up, before he could say too much, before the thoughts he only reserved now for lonely nights, when he needed a hand falling asleep, slipped from his lips.

But Roderich still picked up on it, dull eyes suddenly brightening up. “You mean? In your time we are…” He licked his lips discreetly, staring at Antonio full of expectation.

 _No_ , Antonio geared up to say. _We seldom talk, and if we do then it’s only for work_ . _You barely know I still exist, you avert your eyes when I look at you_ … But something in the hopeful way Roderich was looking at him just cut the words in his throat. That man had just lost and was still losing everything he’s ever had. He wouldn’t probably even remember this conversation twenty years, least even a century from now. What harm a little white lie could do? So he nodded.

“Yes.” He managed to say, hoping his face didn’t betray his deceit. “Relationships changed a lot, they are more casual now, based on feelings, rather than convenience. Politics aren’t involved that much and transportation got really fast. We can see each other more often and nobody cares if we kiss in the middle of the street. Our friends tease us about being sentimental idiots, but neither of us minds it, since we know they do it with affection. I make coffee for you Saturday and Sunday mornings and you always complain that I put too much sugar into it, but drink it to the last drop anyway.”

It became easier as he spoke on, closing his eyes and letting his lips stretch in a wide smile. Talking from his heart, imagining behind his eyelids a life that was just a product of his stubborn heart’s desires. He imagined waking up to the smell of breakfast and to Roderich, reading the news on his phone in his kitchen, with just a t-shirt, boxers and slippers on, hair mussed from last night’s activities. He imagined them playing footsie under the table during meetings and being yelled at by Germany for that. Or spending the holidays together, with both their families around them. God, what a beautiful disaster could that be.

He leaned in, enveloping the real Roderich in a careful embrace, hiding his face in the crook of his neck. “You are going to get past this, past everything that’s yet to come. We both will. You have to trust me on this one, sweetheart.”

“I do. I always trusted you, and if you say that this is the future awaiting for us, then I will make sure I get to live it.”

“Good.” Antonio nodded, feeling a little bit guilty about feeding him false predictions, but even more confused about all that enthusiasm. Surely, Austria couldn’t still be in love with him, could he? However, given his situation, maybe just hearing about something that isn’t loss and massive demise was good enough.

“Will you stay? Just for today?” Roderich asked, looking tired but somehow a little bit less defeated.

“Yes.” Antonio promised, caressing his cheek and jaw. “It’s Christmas, after all.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have anything here to celebrate it. I… wasn’t expecting any visits.” He said with a tired grimace.

Spain bent down to kiss his forehead, whispering. “Leave that to me. I’ll figure something out, you just rest.”

Once he was sure Roderich was asleep, he went out, using the Ministry’s emergency funds to fill the pantry with whatever he could find. He even managed to cook something half decent for dinner and cleaned up the house a bit, doing all he could not to disturb his sleeping host.

 

Roderich woke up around eight, to Antonio fumbling with the gramophone, trying to find a recording of something cheery and in good conditions, while the other man kept rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

They ate dinner, cuddling on the couch under the same blanket. Austria talked about how he missed everyone and how much he wanted the winter to be over, and Spain nodded along, encouraging him to pour his heart out. It was hard, to be suddenly slapped with the realization that he still harbored, and probably always would, feelings for that man. Even in circumstances like these. But he made his bed and now it was his turn to lie in it. He refused adamantly to give Roderich any more information about the future, however. One fat lie was good enough for that day. At the end, he picked a book and they took turns reading to each other under the light of several old candles, till the first rays of dawn.

Antonio had to carry Roderich again, that time to bed, and he lay by his side, wondering whether their lives had always been that complicated.

 

He managed to make time till the evening of the next day, when a knock on the door, calling for him in Spanish, reminded him that the Ministry wouldn’t actually let him loose across Europe for long. Promising to be ready quickly, he turned to say his goodbyes, tying the blue scarf around Austria’s neck.

“I know this won’t do much, but…”

“It will.” Roderich answered softly, burying his sad smile in the wool. “More than you probably realise.”

Antonio leaned in, kissing his cheek and then hugging him. Wishing he could do something, anything, to actually make it better.

“I have another favor to ask of you. One that cancels what I once said.” Austria muttered, drawing away.

“Yes?”

“I’m really happy that you came to me now. But please, don’t do that again.” He licked his lips, looking away. “The promise you gave me, this hope, it’s all I need. But if more disgraces are to come, I don’t want you to see me at my worst again.”

“But…” He tried to protest, but Roderich cut him off with a look.

“It was different when we were one in front of God and men. But now that we aren’t anymore, I’d rather you didn’t see me like this again. I… I know it’s stupid but I want to look good when you come to visit me. I want to be worthy of admiration and desire from you, not pity. At least allow me that dignity. The little I have left.”

“One day-”

“One day I might change my opinion. If that ever happens I’ll let you know. You have all the time of  the world in your hands.”

“It doesn’t work like that, Sweetheart.”

“Then you will make it work like that.” He smiled, and for the first time since he got there, Antonio caught a flicker of that witty, sharp man underneath the broken body. The man he once fell in love with. “I have faith in you.”

“And I have faith in you.” Antonio nodded, leaning forward to give him a soft kiss on his chapped lips. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, my love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaah finally!!♥   
> I'm so goddamn proud of this chapter. It's also the "5" in the 5+1 trope, so there's another chapter left (and it comes with a visual surprise) 
> 
> How was it? Did you like it? :D


	6. +1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No historical notes this time. Let's go down to business, shall we?

# +1 -

 

Antonio froze.

He couldn’t help it. He caught the first glimpse of the well-used blue wool and just stopped breathing.

He’s been avoiding Austria, both the country and the representation, like the plague ever since he came back from 1919. Could you really blame him? He told the guy they were back together in the future. And to make it worse, either Roderich remembered everything and was not particularly thrilled with the idea, or else he would have at least made an attempt to talk to him about it, or he’d forgotten it all completely. Antonio didn’t know what would be worse. Didn’t help the fact that, once again, he just couldn’t stop thinking about him.  

However, with october came the chilly weather and the all-day-long EU meetings. And with those meetings came Roderich, showing up ten minutes late with that damn scarf wrapped around his neck.

Antonio was pretty sure that, along with the gawking, he made some sort of startled animal noise, because several heads turned to look at him, including Austria himself.

“I- nothing I just remembered I left the windows open at home.” He joked, leaning towards France, as if talking to him. Which, now that he thought about it, could have actually been the case.

The boring morning, spent listening to the speakers try to convince their peers that they were trying their hardest at doing stuff they didn’t really give a shit about, calmed him down. Except for one instance when he glanced up in Austria’s direction and found him already staring at him. That time Antonio was the first one to look away, noticeably more flustered.

 

By the time the noon break rolled around Antonio was mentally exhausted. Excusing himself with a phony smile he walked away, strolling through the adjacent park until he found a small square. He sat on a bench and closed his eyes, tilting his head up. The blissful silence was interrupted from time to time by the voices of kids playing football in the nearby school patio and nondescript pop music coming from someone’s phone.

It was way chillier here than at his place, and even if he had packed a jacket, maybe a pair of gloves and a hat should have been in order.

Something hot made contact with his temple. Startled, Spain jumped away, blinking repeatedly only to find a hesitantly smiling Austria holding two cups of coffee in his hands, one of which he was extending towards Antonio.

 

“Thanks…” He took it, grateful for the warmth of it in his frozen hands. Still, he peeked distrustfully at Roderich as he sat down by his side. They remained in silence for a couple of minutes, watching the monotone fountain in the middle of the square, until Roderich sighed, leaning back against the backrest.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I will have the eolics report done by friday.” Spain answered, hands twitching around his cup.

“It’s not about work.”

Well, too much to hope for, apparently.

“Go on then.” He waited for another minute of silence, finally daring to turn around to face Austria, who was looking at him inquisitively.

“Why did you lie?”

“What?”

“Back then,” He brought a hand up to touch his scarf. “why did you tell me that we were together in the future if, going by the reaction you had today to my scarf, you already made that trip to the past?” He pursed his lips, looking Antonio straight in the eyes. “And unless I’ve missed something really subtle, we are not, indeed, in a relationship. So it had been all a lie. Why?”

Antonio had to turn away, unable to stand the accusation in the other’s eyes.

“I don’t know.” He said honestly. “You made an assumption and I just… went with it, I guess.”

“You told me we saw each other-”

“For work!”

“You called me beautiful.”

Okay, Spain didn’t have an excuse for that. He drank all of his coffee in one go, scalding his tongue in the process, and turned away to throw the cup in the nearest trash can. But Roderich was still looking at him expectantly, awaiting for an answer.

“I call a lot of people beautiful.That’s just how I roll.” Antonio grumbled. “I only wanted to give you hope for a less troubled and miserable future, explain that things would get better for you, and that’s just how it came out.”

“You described to me a life together. You made it up from pieces of our present that could fit perfectly-”

“You are attributing to my actions a thought process that really wasn’t there.”

“I saw your face, Toni.”

“You were sick and not wearing your glasses.”

“Why are you grasping at strands?”

“What do you want me to say?!” Antonio shouted out at least, standing briskly from the bench and towering over Austria. “That I am sorry? Well I’m sorry then! There, happy?”

His outburst seemingly didn’t affect Roderich at all, who remained perfectly zen, taking a sip of his coffee and then tilting his head a bit. “Do you even know what are you apologising for?”

“I- I…”

Throwing his hands up up the air Antonio grunted in frustration, flopping down on the bench again and crossing his arms over his chest. “What do you want me to apologise for?”

Roderich hummed, taking another sip, as if he had all the time in the world. “I used to think-” He began softly “that losing you was the most painful thing that would ever happen to me. Turns out? - I was wrong.”

Antonio wanted to say something to that, but he didn’t really know what, so he let him talk.

“But then, you showed up during one of the worst, most desperate moments in my life and made it slightly better. You convinced me that no matter what, there was a future waiting for me without misery and pain, and that the only thing I had to do was to have patience and endure. That knowledge has been in the back of my mind since then, supporting me through everything that came after you left and until this day. And for the most part you were right. I can’t complain about the life I have now, but…”

He trailed off, inspiring deeply, as if gathering the courage to take a leap from a skyscraper “But I’ve been waiting. For decades, I’ve been waiting for the one thing missing from that scenario. I’ve been waiting for you to make a move.”

Antonio’s breathing sped up in tune with his heartbeat. He couldn’t take his eyes off Roderich, the impassible mask of his face as deceptively calm as a stone God. However, they were sitting close enough that Antonio could feel the fine tremble of the cup held in his hands.

“I don’t want your apology. There’s nothing to apologise for. I was asking because I want to know if you lied only for my convenience or if there was some wishful thinking in there too. Because I _don’t want_ it to be a lie.”

“Rode… did you just?” Antonio had trouble believing his own ears. All he could do was keep staring at Roderich in shock, until the man broke their eye contact, looking down at his own lap, the masc finally retreating to show how nervous he was.

“I know now there’s no use in waiting anymore. So this is me, making the first move myself.”

“But- how? You don’t even look at me!”

“I do, actually. You just rarely catch me.” Austria directed a shy smile up at him, that died at Spain’s lack of response. “Alright, I guess I’m just going to give you some time to think and-”

“No, wait. Just hold on for a second, don’t move.” Antonio clasped his hand over Austria’s knee, preventing him from standing up, but his eyes were focused on the ground. He needed just a moment to digest what had just happened. “Did you just ask me out?”

“I guess I did.”

“Holy shit, that’s terrifying.” The second the words left his mouth he had a mini-freak out, worrying that he’d fucked up. However, there must have been something revealing in his voice, because Austria laughed softly, suddenly looking less on edge.

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?”

Antonio laughed too then. A little bit hysterically, but mostly from a happiness that had yet to sink in, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. Roderich sat up straighter, unwinding the scarf from around his frame and then passing one end over Spain’s neck, protecting them both from the gelid breeze that was starting to pick up. Antonio practically melted against him, still a little bit giddy, resting his head on Roderich’s shoulder.

“I’m at a loss here, I don’t know what to do.”

Roderich hummed, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Must be because you always had the past at your disposal, so you’ve never been good at imagining what’s to come.”

“Isn’t that the case with everyone? Time travel or not.”

Antonio could feel the smile against his temple, and so he tilted his head back, gently brushing their lips together, for the first time in a century and barely some months ago at the same time.

“Let’s focus on the present then. In constructing the life you once made up for us. And we’ll see. Besides…”

“...Who knows what the future will hold.” Antonio finished, shaping the words around the enamored smile on his lips.

“Certainly not me, this time.” Austria grinned, leaning in to kiss him again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! Here we are, finally!!!
> 
> This has been a wild ride, but also one of the stories I enjoyed writing the most. I hope you liked it whole and that the ending was cute enough to make up for all the angst. This is a hurt/comfort story, after all. 
> 
> As always, these dorks just deserve the best after all they've gone through.  
> I may write something in this universe sometime again, since I've got some ideas buzzing in my head. Then again, I always say that and never follow through, so I wouldn't count on it :'D
> 
> So that's all! Thanks again to everyone who left comments ~~validating~~ encouraging me. Lots of love and see you next time ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Please, consider commenting and leaving kudos. They are wonderful motivational features that feed the writer's starving soul~  
> [You can also find me on tumblr](http://salytierra.tumblr.com) ♥  
>   
>  **[ ATTENTION: THIS STORY HAS A SEQUEL NOW!!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12934854)**


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